


A Gift Once Given

by toezofasupermodel



Category: Moonlight (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:20:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27690596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toezofasupermodel/pseuds/toezofasupermodel
Summary: A short Mick Beth story.  Birthdays past and present, promises broken or kept?
Relationships: Mick St. John/Beth Turner
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

_Love is the flower of life, and blossoms unexpectedly and without law, and must be plucked where it is found, and enjoyed for the brief hour of its duration._

**D.** **H. Lawrence**

** Part 1/3 **

_ The Present _

A form occupies a chair, holding the fingers of the one he’s come to see. It’s dark, but colourless eyes pick out every detail. With a thumb sweep, he notes how her hand is soft but frowns at its thinness and the visible paths of tiny bones. Knuckles in contrast are swollen slightly—the effects of years, days, hours, minutes. 

The man’s gaze follows a thick, blue line that travels along her forearm, past a bend and up to a peacefully sleeping woman. His dark nature invites him to partake by making her veins shine red, but he dampens it roughly. He’s the one in control, even when hers is the sweetest. These few fleeting moments will not be interrupted. 

Tissue paper fragile, her skin is hot as he touches it. A seductively slow pulse nearly beats him down. Soapy apricot rises to his sensitive nose, bringing memories of talking, sex, taking—a connection, but he resolves not to acknowledge them. Instead, Mick concentrates on the strands of creamy white reaching past her shoulders, remembering them as bright flaxen. 

In shadows, he’s watched tonight as little Anna played with Beth’s hair, while Sarah read to her aloud. She smiled then and confessed, “I’ve been obsessed with _Pride and Prejudice_ since I was twelve. But my daughter and grandbaby top my list of favs.” At the rainbow of silk bows from her junior stylist, she grinned widely and helped Anna with a final touch

Through the preschooler’s birthday song warble, Beth hummed. Afterwards, she touched only a bite of her chocolate cake. Then, she and her daughter discussed film adaptations, while Anna doodled, eating the leftover slice. “Colin Firth was the best Darcy in my opinion. I’m a sucker for brooding brunettes,” she declared. 

Sarah’s brows knit then. She brought up the fact that the love of her mother’s life couldn’t be any less moody and, although he was grey now, he’d been fair. Reminded, she added, “It's you sixieth. You shouldn’t have pushed Dad to go to Nevada.”

Beth shook her head. “It was important, Sarah.”

“Too bad you couldn’t have gone.”

“Your father’s busy with his lecture series,” she argued. “He doesn’t need a one-legged wife. Besides, who says I’m not havin’ fun?” She winked and said, “These pain meds are a party in a bottle,” from her propped position on the bed, her broken limb elevated to ease the swelling.

“My mother the mountain biker,” Sarah groaned. “What’s your age again?” She smirked before tucking one more pillow underneath Beth’s cast.

_ The Past _

“They’re wonderful Mick, but you didn’t need to,” Beth says with a smile, scooping up the flowers he’s brought and trotting off to find a vase under the sink. 

“I know what you said, but it’s the big three O.”

“The big three _oh_ , don’t remind me. Goodbye fancy-free twenties. Had to attend a ‘Saving for Retirement’ seminar at work. It was mandatory. Felt like I was being catapulted towards middle age and beyond,” she complains. 

“You’re dating a guy whose ninety-something…you’re practically a baby.” Mick winks.

She snickers and pulls out the only thing she can find at the moment. The Mason jar will look cute with a kaleidoscope of Gerber daisies. After filling it with water, she removes the wax paper that wraps the bouquet and dunks it in. “Fabulous,” Beth tells him, placing it on the kitchen island and taking a step back.

“I’ve seen your savage sweet tooth. What’re you thinking for a treat? Devil’s food cake? Good choice for a vampire…if I could eat.” he teases. She’s given him nothing to go on. ‘No fancy dinner and no gifts, okay. If I just ignore aging it won’t happen,’ she announced last week.

“No more cake.” Beth makes a face. At his curious expression, she explains, “Min made one. It’s her new hobby. Roses are her specialty. They looked like little volcanoes with dino-shaped leaves. More prehistoric than pretty.” Min is an excellent legal assistant, who has helped her numerous times with research, but she’s no baker.

“That bad, huh?”

She nods. “Sugary…and rubbery. In our office, Min’s the party police. No escaping a slice.” Beth had plastered on a pleasant expression, as she chewed with effort two inches of frosting and some seriously lumpy bites. 

Mouth puckering at the memory, she looks up. Mick’s smirk has her laughing again. “This birthday did not go under the radar as I’d hoped.” 

“I brought you something else,” he says. His eyes are mischievous, as he pulls an item from his coat. Leading her to the sofa, Mick fans his hand in a stop gesture before she can argue. “Take it. I didn’t buy it.” He plunks it in her lap.

Beth shoots him a suspicious look. 

Iridescent peach paper with a thin blue ribbon, the package is small and inviting. She gives it a gentle shake before pulling the strings and ripping it open.

“It was my grandma’s,” Mick explains. _You like it, don't you? Grandpa gave it to me. Pass it on some day,_ Nana had said, pressing it into his palm when he’d eyed the barrette at the age of ten. He’s kept it all this time. It isn’t fancy, just a shiny bauble of multicoloured stones in a double spiral pattern. But, with his family alive only in memories, it’s more than precious to him.

“It’s very unique--and gorgeous,” Beth gushes, leaning over and giving him a lengthy kiss. “But you’ve kept it all these years. It’s from your past. This is too important to give away.” She holds it out to him.

Mick shakes his head. “Keep it. You’re my future. Nothing's more important.”

She hugs him tightly. “You are the best part of this birthday.”

“Try it on,” he encourages.

Beth grins, getting up and shuffling over to her desk mirror. Grabbing a handful of bright, golden locks in her fist, she mulls over a placement. Examining her image from right to left, Beth notes that grey hairs have spontaneously sprouted at her temples again. She’s her mother—skin, eyes, cheekbones—but it was her father who’d gone grey early. “Would you clip it in?” Beth asks, noting mentally to pick up another dye bottle of Honey Sunrise #24.

Mick frowns. He’d worn leather gloves to wrap the clip. “Sorry,” he says, “but, it’s silver,” wanting nothing more than to fasten it in her silky hair, then trail down that beautiful neck with his tongue and two points. Silver is poisonous, making him ill with the slightest touch.

“S' okay.” Beth replies and puts it in herself. Sliding back onto the couch, she’s determined to show him how much she appreciates it. Pulling at her blouse buttons and exposing a creamy shoulder, she says, “Will you promise me something?”

“Mmm,” Mick mutters. Frosty white has taken over his irises and sharp teeth brush feather-light against her collarbone, leaving no marks or cuts. 

Beth whispers her one birthday wish before they make love. 

He nods. Then with a tug, her satin shirt falls away, and it’s back to the matter at hand.


	2. Chapter 2

** Part 2 **

_True love only comes once in a lifetime, so take it as it goes and enjoy every bit of it while it is still burning strong._

**Anonymous**

_ The Present _

He'd watched tonight, melting into shadowy corners until the visiting was done and Beth slept soundly. On past occasions, her husband had been here. Mick’s heart would twist enviously as the other man kissed and hugged her, balloons and well-wishes abounding, wondering at Beth’s beauty and declaring his undying love. 

_ The Past _

Mick insists on dinner at the _Fiesta Del Sol_ , refusing to let Beth’s 40th pass without her favourite dish: mango-lime quesadillas. Usually, she dives into them enthusiastically, while he enjoys every mouthful vicariously through her blissful expression. 

Tonight, however, she’s distracted. Her food sits uneaten. Beth’s baby blues have not met Mick’s concerned hazel since the passenger door of the Mercedes was opened and her tiny hand was wrapped in his. 

Across the table, he watches as she tortures a napkin somberly, twisting then shredding it into lavender confetti. “A penny for your thoughts?” he asks.

Beth looks up. “Hmmm?”

“You're distracted. Care to share?”

Beth smiles weakly, and says, “It’s nothing,” then gives her dish a couple pokes with a fork.

“Not into Mexican?”

“No, _”_ she answers glumly before her eyes drop to the floor, following the zigzag carpet pattern. 

“If it’s not good,” answers Mick, “we could go somewhere else. There’s that sushi restaurant you like.” He’ll do anything to please her. It brings him joy to make her happy. It’s agony to see her so down.

Beth shakes her head, her eyes still wandering. They fix on a couple trying unsuccessfully to quiet their one-toothed toddler. “I'm just not hungry,” she mutters.

“It’s more than that. We could light the city with your energy most nights. It’s why I love you. Couldn't light a lightbulb tonight.”

Lips pursing, Beth finally looks at him. “I'm fine, trust me,” she replies sweetly, then takes a bite of a tortilla triangle dripping with hot, melted cheese. She puts it down, wipes her mouth with an extra napkin and gives him a saccharine smile.

“That's doubtful,” says Mick. He grabs her chin gently. “Talk.”

Her eyes fill with tears shortly after.

_ The Present _

In the past, it took a long time before her husband said goodnight. When he was done making love to Beth, it was always late. But the hour wasn’t what made Mick see red. There was a hot, murderous jealously, as the human fell asleep, his hand clutching hers.

Mick never came close. Not any birthday. 

But tonight, it was different. 

This afternoon, her husband had said goodbye with a quick kiss, off to catch his plane, leaving Beth to heal in the care of their daughter.

Mick jumped at the invitation, slipping into Beth’s room soundlessly after Sarah and Anna went to bed. A flicker of movement and he was at her bedside. 

All that matters now is closeness, cold fingers caressing her warmth, icy lips brushing against the heat of her wrist. 

Silently, he begs Beth to open her eyes.

But after what he’s put her through, he's terrified to wake her.

_ The Past _

_Blubbering doesn’t help._ It’s her father’s number-one expression. Turners are strong. She is strong. Beth’s given herself a minute of upset, and now she’s done. “I told you I was having pain,” she croaks out. “The doctor ran some tests.”

Mick nods.

Her lip twitches, but no tears escape her big, glassy eyes. “Endometriosis. Looks like there’s little chance of kids for me.” She flashes a brave smile, putting on a Turner face. Not long ago, on a case, Mick had expressed his regret over never having a child. At the thought of never getting pregnant, there’s a hollow ache inside. 

Sighing deeply, she buries the uncomfortable feeling. _Just pathetic pangs of biology_ , Beth reasons. _I've never considered kids before. And I’ll be damned if my body dictates what I want now._ “Doesn’t matter,” she continues with a shrug, “it isn’t something I've thought about. I’ve got a great job and you. That’s all I need. _In fact_ , this makes things clearer. I’ve been thinking.” 

Across the table, Mick is dubious. He’s sure he doesn’t want to hear what’s coming next.

Beth takes a great gulp of air, and says, “I know what I asked, the promise, but things are different. You’re most important. And, aren’t promises made to be broken? At least when circumstances change?”

 _No!_ “You said you’d _never_ ask,” Mick shoots back, his anger rising. The promise is coiled around the core of him. It drives him forward each day. “We’re working on something,” he tells her. With Coraline’s medicine in short supply and locked away in Europe, he’s hired his own specialists to look at the ‘oddities’ in his blood. They’ve poked and prodded him every which way. No one in the vampire community has any idea.

“Is it close?”

Mick doesn’t respond, which gives her an answer.

Beth grabs his hand and kisses the fingertips. “Don’t you see? We can be together. It would be simpler. You’re not getting older, and I’m _definitely_ not getting younger.”

Mick shakes his head. “I love you as much as always. You’re beautiful, Beth. In case you haven’t noticed, I adore you even more for—”

“My inner beauty. You tell me all the time, and it's wonderful. But, when I’m fifty and your still ‘you’ everyone'll be wondering if I've got big money with a boy-toy on my arm.”

“You’ve never worried what people think. Who cares about them! Middle-age is hardly old. We don’t look mismatched.”

“Says the one with no crow’s feet or laugh lines. I know it's shallow. It makes me sick, believe me. Who knew I'd feel this way. I’m not proud for begging. But ten years trying to find a fix…and nothing.”

“You told me once that you wanted a little boy,” Mick argues. “This diagnosis isn’t the end of a _normal_ future for you. I future I’d die for. You could adopt.”

Beth pounces on his words. “We could adopt…as a couple?”

He shakes his head, sadly. “A baby in a world of vampires isn’t a good idea. Besides, a child would age, I don’t. People would notice—assuming we don’t lock our bundle up or ship him off to boarding school. What about _you_ …newbies aren't mommy material.”

Beth has thought through the options, over a tub of strawberry ice cream or two. She’ll be with him, whatever it takes. “Doesn’t matter...a baby has never been on my priority list. Just you.” 

Mick crosses his arms. “Don’t ask this! I’m working hard on a cure!”

“How many decades will it take? Like you said, you don’t change, but _I do_. That’s why I don’t care anymore …I’m ready.” She’s set on this. Her tried-and-true hair dye can only do so much to stop the years. No surgery, no needles either, she's decided. She doesn't want a plastic face. Time needs to freeze, or things will change.

“You can’t be serious!” Mick scoffs. “You’ve no clue about this life!”

“I’m _absolutely_ serious,” declares Beth. “Make me like you. The same. No boundaries.”

Lips drawn in a tight line, Mick broods. It’s a long while before he says, “Tell me something—and,” he heaves a sigh, “I’ll do it.”


	3. Chapter 3

**_Part 3/3_ **

****

_The life and love we create is the life and love we live._

**Leo Buscaglia**

**** ****

_ The Past _

Beth sits in an armchair, a damp tissue clutched in a death grip, another shaking hand on a paperback. How had her dinner date three days ago gone so wrong? They’d driven home in near silence. “This is my last goodbye,” Mick had finally ground out. 

There’s a knock at the door. Half-heartedly, she rises to answer. Swinging it open, Beth sees a blue-suited Ben Talbot. His light eyes note her reddened ones with a frown. He takes in her swollen cheeks with a sigh and shakes his head. “You look awful.”

“Thanks,” she says flatly.

“Got the Solsburg report from Min.” He waves a manila folder in his right hand. “You didn’t answer my texts. I’ve been worried. I thought perhaps her ‘Mint Surprise’ cake didn’t sit well? I'm still recovering.”

Beth has called in sick for several days, not typical of her at all. With a nose for investigation to rival his pretty blond employee, Ben has taken it upon himself to check on her. “You okay?” 

Pathetically, Beth nods. “I’m better.”

He scans her tangled hair and frumpy tracksuit skeptically. “I'd say that’s a lie. Maybe I can help?” he offers, inviting himself in.

_ The Present _

It’s impossible to tell how long he sits there, staring at Beth’s face. Mick has wished so often for this moment that time is irrelevant. As minutes turn into hours, her breathing calms him. The beat of his heart slows to match hers. 

Images from her thirtieth press along the walls of his mind in this relaxed state, finding cracks in which to wriggle free:

_“I told you once I don’t want to be what you are,” she whispers in his ear. “Promise me you’ll keep looking for a cure—and never make me have to decide.”_

_With hooded eyes, he nods. Then, the silk that binds his present is cracked opened to reveal her lovely shoulder._

_“I love you,” Beth declares, pulling at the barrette; her fair waves cascading down._

_He’s there immediately. Fangs graze her collarbone, then break the skin of her neck. There’s a hiss when his tongue catches an escaping drop. Teeth lengthen fully, as slow breaths become panting._

_His eyes go pale with anticipation—and wariness. It feels wrong to cause her pain._

_But Mick can’t pull away._

_He bites down and samples her blood._

_Afterwards, noting his shameful motion to wipe off the evidence, Beth grabs his wrist and crushes him close in a deep kiss._

_He is her life...past, present and future._

Dreams are interrupted by a female voice. “You’re here.”

Mick can’t speak. He’s rehearsed this moment in his fantasies. Now as reality, he’s speechless. It’s Beth who grabs his hand. Even after the caresses he’s given her, he tenses and looks toward the door.

“It’s alright,” she soothes. “Don’t leave.”

“Why would you want me here? I left before,” he manages. It’s surprising his heart hasn’t crushed under the burden.

_“You can’t be serious?” Mick scoffs at the Del Sol._

_“I’m absolutely serious,” Beth declares. “Make me like you. The same. No_ _boundaries.”_

_Mick's eyes narrow. He's played enough games with Josef to recognize a poker face. Lips tightening in a line, he broods. It’s a long while before he finally speaks up. “Tell me something…and,” he heaves a sigh, “I’ll do it.”_

_“Anything.”_

_“There’ll be no family with me. It's too dangerous. And I can’t say a cure will come. You may never have a baby with me. Not one, Beth. So, if turning is what you truly want, the risks tear me up, but I’ll do it—if you can honestly say you can live without a child."_

_Beth chews her lip, as her heart plummets, and her mouth goes bone dry. She was so sure she’d be okay without a baby, but when given a hard line, it’s her soul, not her biological clock, which protests. He’s called the bluff she hadn’t realized she was making. Beth feels sick, as her stomach churns, and her head spins. She **does** want a baby…someone else’s if it must be, it doesn’t matter…but a child at some point. _

_And, as easily as if she’s spoken the words aloud, Mick reads them off her face._

_“I’ve got to go,” he tells her before an awkward ride home._

_“This is my last goodbye, Beth,” he says after leading her up the stairs and to her apartment._

_But Mick doesn’t leave. He stands upon an adjacent building top, as she presses her nose in the pages of Jane Austin. He watches her burst with tears when Talbot comes by, only omitting the uniqueness of a relationship with a vampire, as she spills out her heart. And, he stews as the other man wraps his arms around her, while she wails in anger and frustration._

_Time moves on, months become years, Mick’s fragile hope for a cure never comes, and a dream of a new beginning eventually dissolves. Beth moves into the arms of the attorney._

_Still, Mick watches over her. It is he who first perceives a subtle transformation: differences in her scent, changes in her mood._

_Shortly after, her heartbeat becomes two, confirming a miracle...and an obvious truth._

_Their time has passed._

“I understand,” she tells him gently. “You knew me better than I did. From ponytails to prom dresses, I had no idea how incredible it would be. So much pink. My daughter wouldn’t wear any other colour!” She squeezes his hand tenderly, wishing she could pass along the experience. “Thank you,” she says instead.

“I couldn’t be what you needed," grunts Mick. He can’t help but be bitter at the dice that were cast for him. This meeting has been a terrible idea. “You didn’t need me, Beth. You did it all on your own."

Pictures on the walls taunt him with cutesy captions and colourful frames of Beth and Ben hiking in Peru and parasailing in Hawaii. The sweet couple bikes over the words ‘Yellowstone Adventure’. A tiny photo Scotch-taped beside it reads ‘Wipe-out in Wyoming’. Remarkably, Beth’s laughing—at the cast around her leg. 

Perched on a vanity, a mother laughs as she swings young Sarah. A wife beams while her district attorney husband is appointed as a judge. And, a teary-eyed grandmother kisses newborn Anna. 

Beth has lived a life of warmth, enfolded by the familiar arms of her loved ones. Mick’s been on the fringe, out in the cold, never to come in or let her know he’s watched. He’s wrapped himself in the arms of many (none of them he’s cared for). 

He can’t escape the doubts that haunt him. 

Should he have kept his promise? Was it even worth it? 

Absolutely. 

His obsession, his sole mission—has always been to give her happiness. 

“Not true, Mick. You let me go, no matter how much it hurt you. It was the greatest gift. I loved you so much, and always will. I’ve missed everything about you,” Beth tells him. “Everything about _us_ ,” she revises.

He can’t resist brushing her hair with his fingers but draws away sharply with pain and nausea. 

Her final touch to Anna’s hairstyle, holding a twisted knot of ivory, has been his grandmother’s silver barrette.

“You’re part of me,” Beth tells him, pulling the clip from her hair. “And I'll never forget that.” She places a kiss on the back of his hand. “ _Please_. Stay. And talk.”

He touches the kiss to his lips. 

Mick’s tried to stay close, just out of sight, in case she still needed him…

And tonight—she does.

The End


End file.
